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Sylven Swiftstrike
Name: Sylven Swiftstrike (formerly Sylven Alah’ni) Age: '''3373 '''Race: Night Elf Class: '''Demon Hunter '''Profession: Former Sentinel, Demon Hunter History: Sylven was born in the cold tundra of Winterspring, near Starfall Village. She studied the arts of alchemy and herbalism under the instruction of her mother, a well respected Priestess. She was often given the simple task of bringing potions to small towns and outposts throughout Winterspring. All members of the village took a part in raising Sylven and in her young age she became a jack of all trades, learning everything from leather-working to archery. Many expected her to follow in her mother’s footsteps and become a Priestess. Sylven surprised all but her mother when she announced she wished to join the Sentinels. They were hesitant to welcome the young Elf, who was a little over 400 at the time, until she displayed her skills with the bow and her knowledge of the land. She entered a rigorous training program and improved upon her skills with both the bow and the newly provided glaive. Over the next hundreds of years Sylven gradually rose in rank and skill amongst the Sentinels. With the rise of the new Goblin town Everlook, many of the Night Elves grew uneasy. Sylven shared similar sentiments, believing the town would attract outsiders who would not respect the old ways. Sylven took it as her personal duty to monitor Everlook. She lingered on the outskirts, hidden in the snow, and always watching. One day, at the rise of dawn, she witnessed three Goblins throw a darkly clad Orc from the town. Sylven approached cautiously, remaining crouched and hidden. The Orc pushed himself up from the snow, his claw-like fingers clenching. He simply adjusted his hood and wandered off, using a crooked staff for support. Fueled by paranoia, Sylven followed. As she continued, the land became darker and dryer, filled with more rock than snow. The Orc kneeled upon the ground, still showing no sign he was aware of her presence, and began chanting in a language she could not identify. Sylven took refuge behind a fallen tree and watched in mute awe as the Orc pushed down his hood to reveal a pair of twisted horns and began to conjure a circle of energy around him. Utterly confused, but not wishing to hesitate, Sylven drew the bow from her back and, stringing an arrow, aimed for the Orc. It hit him square in the back, but he seemed unaffected. His frame stiffened and he turned slowly towards Sylven. His lips twisted into a snarl-like grin as he approached her. Drawing her glaive, Sylven rushed forward. She managed to slice across the Orc’s chest before she was swatted to the ground by the Orc’s claws. Staring up at him, it was clear he was different from a usual Orc. His eyes were dark, nearly black, and he reeked of fel energies. He stood over Sylven, muttering to himself in an unidentifiable language and letting out a choked laugh every couple of minutes. Growing rather impatient of this, Sylven thrust the edge of her glaive towards his gut. He stepped backwards, evading most of the damage. Despite her agility, Sylven’s skills proved weak in contrast with the Orc’s magical abilities. In a wave of fel magic, she was thrust against a nearby rock, hitting her head. She watched the Orc approach her, convinced she was about to meet her end as the blood trickled down the back of her neck. In a daze, she believed she saw a demon-like figure approach and combat the Orc. She was cognizant of only segments of the battle as she drifted in and out of consciousness. She awoke to find the Orc dead, only some feet away. Rising to her feet and peering around, she saw no sign of the figure she believed to have seen. As her vision returned, however, her eyes fell upon a faint green fire within the hills. She scrabbled up the steep slope and stopped when she laid eyes on the figure she had seen. He was crouched over a fel-tainted flame, seemingly deep in thought. Sylven proceeded to hound the man about his methods, seeking to learn how he had killed the Orc so easily. He ignored her for a while, but she persevered. Eventually the man caved and spoke. His only words, however, were that his job was a thankless one. Sylven returned home with a new obsession. She sought all the information she could get her hands to do with both Demons and Demon Hunters. Her comrades, and even her own mother, eyed her with a newfound weariness. Although she tried to explain the series of events to her mother, she was met with a deaf ear, and shunned. Resenting the other Elves for not understanding her new passion, Sylven took to the wilderness. She began training herself on the outskirts of Darkwhisper Gorge in the south of Winterspring, killing small imps and other lesser Demons. As her talents improved, Sylven left for Ashenvale forest, where she heard the Demonic taint was even greater. She pledged never to speak her Elven last name again and instead labeled herself ‘Swiftstrike’. As she continued to fight Demons, the need arose for her to better detect them. When least expected, the Demon Hunter she had previously encountered returned to her. He taught her of their rituals and, in contrast with their previous encounter, now smiled upon her. Sylven abandoned the typical face markings of other Night Elves and chose to instead create dark runes on her body to aid her in fighting Demons. With the Demon Hunter’s instruction and without hesitation, she burnt out her own eyes with the tip of a magic-infused blade in a painful and bloody ritual. This trapped a Demon’s essence within her. Wandering the land wherever Demonic taint is present, Sylven now strives to become nothing but the strength behind the glaive, forgetting any heart she once had. Height: 7’2” Weight: 190 Appearance: ''' Sylven’s frame is lithe yet concentrated, comprised of muscle and not much else. She stands slightly taller than the typical Night Elf female. She has pale skin and white hair which is cut short and jagged, having a feathery appearance. Her eyes are a mess of scar tissue and the sockets around them are marked with deep scars, as if she went into a bit of a frenzy when she removed them. With sunken cheeks and a slight but constant frown, Sylven is often thought to have a forlorn expression. Sylven can usually be seen wearing white. She seems to take great pleasure in admiring the blood stains after a messy battle, and white fabric allows her to do this all the better. If on her own, Sylven will wear a blind fold. If she knows she will be met by others, however, she will remove it in a purposeful attempt to frighten or startle them. She is rarely seen wearing more than a few scraps of clothing. On her back are her twin glaives and, sometimes, her bow. '''Personality: Sylven is humble but disapproves greatly Night Elven society and the feelings of supremacy that she feels accompany it. She harbors fierce loyalty to those who show her kindness, no matter how small. Although she hates few, Sylven is apathetic to the plights and joys of most. She strives to become cold and ruthless, believing that this will help her better complete her duties as a Demon Hunter; this causes some to see her as a bit of a sociopath. Sylven is cynical, reclusive, and often silent. She sits back and watches the younger races, convinced that they will bring about their demise through acts such as warlockery. Still, she would rather observe them and try to aid them when it is nearly too late than preach her beliefs to deaf ears. Despite her attempts at maintaining a calm and rational composure, Sylven is sometimes prone to bouts of rage and frustration.